


The Collector

by Sioux



Category: Forever Knight, The Bill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:45:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sioux/pseuds/Sioux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This piece came about as the result of a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Collector

“Want some?” Luke asked, waving a piece of dry toast around.  
“Please,” Craig replied, concentrating on making the coffee.  
Luke finished buttering the toast and cut the slice in half, holding one half to Craig’s mouth whilst he took a bite and chewed. Absently Luke bit into the rest of the half slice, then popped the last of it into Craig’s mouth, licking his fingers afterwards. Craig turned his dark eyes onto his companion and smiled, watching as Luke unselfconsciously cleaned his fingers.  
“Sorry, Luke. What did you say?” Craig asked, aware he had been asked a question but not having really been listening.  
“I said I’ll pick you up after your shift on Friday and we can have a couple of drinks before we go to the party.”  
“Ah!”  
“Ah?”  
“I knew there was something I meant to tell you last night,” Craig said.  
“This had better not be what I think it’s going to be,” Luke replied, turning to look up at Craig.  
“I’ve been switched to the night-shift for four days, I won’t be able to go to the party,” Craig said quickly.  
Luke breathed out through his nose noisily.  
“Kerry is going to be gutted if you don’t turn up.”  
“Umm, Kerry already knows!”  
“Oh bloody marvellous! Everyone else knows apart from me?”  
“Don’t be silly Luke! You’re in the job, you know what it’s like.”  
“Yeah,” Luke muttered with little grace. “Why?”  
“Why what?”  
“Why are you on the night-shift?”  
“Remember a few weeks ago when I caught the psycho who was collecting blood?”  
“The one Barton Street let walk?” Luke asked, laughing.  
“Thanks for reminding me! Detective Knight thinks I can be of some help in finding him again.”  
“Detective Knight? Detective Nick Knight? Blonde hair, blue eyes and very good looking Detective Knight who’s been at Sun Hill for the last week?”  
Craig grinned down at his lover.  
“That sounds like a touch of the green-eyed monster to me,” he said gently, taking Luke into his arms and kissing him.  
“He’s gorgeous,” Luke complained, taking quick kisses from Craig. “All that flawless white skin and big blue eyes,” he finished.  
“Then it’s a good job I’m currently into brown-eyed brunettes, isn’t it?” Craig replied. “It sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of looking.”  
Luke frowned and concentrated on Craig’s lips.  
“Be careful,” he said quietly brushing Craig’s bottom lip with his thumb.  
“Luke?”  
Luke looked up and smiled at him, more than a little distracted. Craig was frowning down at him now.  
“It’s nothing,” Luke said, turning back to buttering the toast.  
“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Craig said, putting his arms around Luke from behind and resting his cheek against the side of the younger man’s head.  
“It’s just something Reg said.”  
“Reg?”  
“There is something funny about the guy.”  
“Yeah, I know. I used to work with him, remember?”  
“Not Reg, the Yank!”  
“Canadian.”  
“What?”  
“Knight is Canadian.”  
“Yank, Canadian, whatever. They’re all the same over there.”  
“I wouldn’t let Knight hear you say that! Come on then, let’s hear what pearls of wisdom fell from PC Hollis’ lips!”  
Luke leaned back into the comforting embrace and twined his hands with Craigs.  
“There is something funny about him.” Craig rolled his eyes so Luke dug him in the ribs. “He makes me feel really uncomfortable and he has the same effect on Reg.”  
“Not a particularly effective observation, PC Ashton.”  
Luke sighed.  
“Just a gut reaction, copper’s nose, call it what you want. He’s….unnerving.”  
“As well as being good looking?”  
“As well as being good looking. Did you know almost everyone who has worked with him has only lasted about two days, or rather nights?”  
“What?”  
“They all go down with something and end up going off sick, apart from Des. Reg got him pulled off onto another job after the first night working with Knight.”  
Craig pulled a face, still unable to come to terms with Des and Reg sharing house and home. Anything else just defied the imagination, but Tony Stamp swore there was only one bed in that place.  
“So,” Craig said, whispering in his ear, then gently biting his ear lobe. “Reg thinks Nick Knight is what? A werewolf?” he asked, his hand slithering down, undoing the button and zip then snaking into Luke’s trousers. Luke pushed his hips forward and muttered something.  
“What?” Craig breathed against his neck.  
“Vampire, he thinks Knight is a ohhhhhh,” Luke moaned as Craig’s fingers stroked him on a particularly sensitive spot. Then cool fingers, slick with butter from the pot in front of him, stroked deeply into him, pushing him forward and up onto his toes. Luke pushed back against the hardness digging into him then forward into the warm hand. The hand in front left him momentarily as bits of a familiar little wrapper fluttered down to the floor around his feet. A delicious feeling of tingling anticipation swept up along Luke’s legs and across his belly as seconds later something much larger than fingers pushed into his body. Reflexively Luke pushed up onto his toes again and then pushed back.  
“You always so prepared?” he gasped out as Craig thrust into him steadily.  
“Used to be a boy scout,” Craig replied, breathing hard.  
“No shit?” Luke panted before his higher speech functions cut out leaving him only with the ability to moan encouragement and then howl as he came.

Two sets of stressed breathing echoed through the kitchen. Craig had his arms wrapped tightly around Luke and was leaning on Luke’s back who in turn was leaning against the worktop, a stray slice of toast centimetres away from the end of his nose.  
“I love you,” Luke whispered.  
The arms holding him tightened in acknowledgement.   
A powerful hammering on the front door rudely brought them to their senses.  
“Oh no! Tony is picking me up while my car’s in the garage,” Luke groaned, not making any attempt to move.   
Carefully Craig pulled away, dropping the used condom into the kitchen bin, he cleaned himself up at top speed with some damp paper towel, handing a couple of sheets to Luke. The hammering on the front door increased in volume. Sulkily Luke fastened himself up and got ready to face the working day.  
“Tony’s timing stinks!”  
“And so does this kitchen so don’t let him in,” Craig warned, quickly giving Luke a peck on the lips. Then he said kindly,   
“See you tonight, my love,” his eyes softening as he wiped the sweat of their passion from Luke’s face.   
Luke reached up and pulled him down for a longer kiss which was interrupted by Tony again.  
“Alright Tone! Don’t break the door down!” Luke shouted, making his way down the hall.   
“Come on! We haven’t got all day,” Tony said, as soon as the door opened.  
“Alright, alright I ‘m here!”   
“What’s up? You got out of bed late?”  
“No. I was in the loo, that’s all.”  
“Craig on early shift then?” Tony asked.  
“No, Craig’s busy,” Luke replied, pulling the door closed leaving Craig to laugh quietly to himself as he drank the lukewarm coffee and finished off the last piece of cold toast.

 

Des walked wearily through the front door, shutting it quietly behind him. Reg was on the two – ten shift and should be asleep, though from the delicious smell wafting along the hallway he’d either left something in the oven for him or was up and cooking. The thought of food dragged his tired feet into the kitchen. Reg was indeed up and busy, a tea towel slung over his shoulder as he busied himself stirring a pan on the stove.  
“Reggie babe, you should be in bed.”  
“Morning Des. Just thought you might want something hot to eat.”  
Des wandered across to the stove, slung his arm across Reg’s shoulders and inhaled the heavenly scent coming from the pan.  
“You’re spoiling me! That smells great! What is it?”  
“Store cupboard soup,” Reg replied, dipping a clean spoon in the bright green mixture and letting Des taste.  
“Mmmm, that is gorgeous!”  
“Yeah, thanks. Nigella Lawson recipe, actually” he said, dishing up the soup into two bowls. “With a bit of my own flavourings thrown in.”  
A plate of freshly cut crusty bread sat on the table so Des dug in with relish, finishing the bowl in a couple of minutes and asking for seconds. Reg served up another bowl of soup and sat down, quietly finishing his own portion.  
“What’s up?” Des asked, finally noticing the unnatural quiet in the kitchen.  
“Nothing. How was your shift?”  
“OK.”  
“Have you been working with our Canadian colleague?”  
“Some of the time. No sign of the weirdo with the blood fetish, I’m pleased to say. Anyway Nick’s moving across onto Barton Street’s patch tonight.”  
“Oh! Right!” Reg said, scraping the last spoonful of soup out of his bowl. “Wonder who’s going to be puppy walking him over there.”  
“The one who use to be our very own, pink and pretty, Gilmore,” Des replied, scraping his spoon around his bowl.  
“Craig?”  
“How many other gay Sergeant Gilmore’s do you know? Any more of this soup left?” Des asked.  
“Well, I did get this for your next course,” Reg replied, taking out a bag from the fridge and holding up a piece of rump steak at least an inch thick and six inches across.”  
“Bloody ‘ell Reggie babe! We come up on the lottery or something?”  
“Just thought you were looking a bit pale that’s all. If you don’t want it I’ll eat it…”  
“Get it under that grill, my son! You can take it out of me body later,” Des replied, his mouth watering as the succulent steak dropped onto the grill pan.  
After his good meal Des was more than ready to go to bed but despite his rash promises in the kitchen he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Cautiously Reg ran a fingertip down the side of Des’s face. He was looking much paler than normal and the shadows around his eyes had nothing to do with too much bed and not enough sleep. Satisfied that Des was fast asleep Reg took an oblong jewellers box out of his bedside table. Opening it carefully he revealed an exquisite gold crucifix and chain. The links of the chain glinted slightly in the lamplight. Moving slowly so as not to disturb Des, Reg fastened it around the sleeping man’s neck. Gently he fingered the healing punctures on the side of Des’s neck, noting the fresh bruising. He narrowed his eyes in silent anger. Well there wouldn’t be any more of that occurring, not after the amount of soup Des had eaten. He closed the box and put it back into the bedside table drawer then climbed into bed intending to sleep until he had to get up for his shift. As he turned out the light Des moved towards the new source of warmth in the bed and curled himself around Reg. Reg smiled as Des spooned up behind him and gave a contented snort. Reg wondered if Luke might want to take advantage of Nigella’s recipe for store cupboard soup, especially after he had adapted the recipe. In Reg’s opinion four whole roasted bulbs of garlic in each batch of soup made it quite therapeutic when one’s partner was looking a bit pale and anaemic.

Halfway through Reg’s shift his mobile ‘phone rang.  
“Hello?”  
“Reggie babe, what’s with the jewellery?”  
“Don’t you like it?”  
“It’s very nice. It looks very expensive. What do want from me, a ring?”  
Reg coloured up a bright red, much to the amusement of Robbie Cryer.  
“No!”  
“Oh, you don’t want to stay with me for life then?”  
“No, yes!”  
“Make up your mind. Why did you buy me a cross and chain? I know the accent’s Liverpool but it doesn’t mean to say that’s the colour of me religion.”  
“Just thought it looked nice, that’s all,” Reg replied defensively.  
“Think you and me need to have a talk when I get off duty,” Des said.  
“You’re not happy?” Reg questioned softly. “Are you saying you want to go?”  
“No, I still want yer skinny bod, Reggie babe, but I want to know what yer thinking. All of what yer thinking!” Des said. “And no wrapping it up. Yer worried about sumthin’. I want to know what. OK?”  
“OK. See you later.”  
“You will,” Des promised as he hung up.  
“Everything OK?” Robbie questioned, not at all abashed about listening in to one side of Reg’s conversation.  
“Fine,” Reg replied, for once not willing to share information.

Des turned up early for his own shift, an act which caused a raised eyebrow from the duty sergeant.  
“What’s the matter Des, shit the bed?”  
“Very funny Sarge,” Des said, going to the locker room to get changed.   
Once in uniform Des went to track down his partner, he discovered Reg and Luke, heads together, earnestly discussing something. As soon as Luke saw Des standing in the doorway he leaned away from Reg, nodded once and then left quickly.  
“Evening Luke.”  
“Des,” Luke replied as he passed.  
“What was all that about?” Des asked.  
“Luke just wanted some advice on how to cook store cupboard soup, that’s all.”  
“Looked a bit serious for a discussion on cooking.”  
“Well he wanted to get it right. A bit of a special occasion.”  
“Special occasion? Well I hope he doesn’t go as mad on the garlic as you do. I could even smell meself this morning. So, what’s going on Reg? About a ton of garlic in the dinner this morning, then I wake up to find a very nice expensive looking crucifix has appeared around me neck. You been watchin’ too many horror movies?”  
“Sorry, didn’t you like the soup? I won’t make it again if that’s the case,” Reg replied neatly side stepping the main question.  
“No Reggie, that’s not the case. Now tell me what you really thought.”  
Reg dropped his head, unable to meet his partner’s gaze, his face flushing pink.  
“Don’t know what you mean, Des!” Reg said, trying for ignorance.  
“Reg, at least look me in the face when yer lying to me,” Des said.  
Reg sighed.  
“I thought Knight was,…..” Reg’s voice dipped into inaudibility.  
“Was what?” Des question relentlessly.  
“A v…….”  
“What?”  
“A vampire. I think he’s a vampire!” Reg said rather more loudly than he intended.  
Des looked deeply into the unhappy blue grey eyes before him.  
“A vampire?” he asked unnaturally quietly.  
“Have you seen the colour of your face lately and what about those holes in your neck,” Reg hissed from a range of a few inches.  
“What holes?”  
Reg dragged Des across to the mirror.  
“Those holes!”  
Des fingered the marks on his neck curiously.  
“Thought that was you getting a bit carried away, like.”  
Reg didn’t even bother to reply. The worried frown looking back at him through the mirror gave Des an inkling of how pale he was looking. The even more worried frown reflected on Reg’s face told him just how worried his partner was too. He wasn’t buying into the vampire bit but maybe he did need a bit more rest. He also knew better than to argue with Reg, once he got a bee in his bonnet about something. Quickly checking around the locker room before he pulled Reg towards himself for a sound kiss.  
“We’re both off duty tomorrow aren’t we?”  
Reg nodded.  
“Right! My turn to make the dinner. A few bevvies down the pub first, then back for a plateful of tater ‘ash then an early night.”  
“Early… oh right! Good idea. Yeah an early night’ll do us both the world of good.”  
Des pinched Reg’s cheek and said quietly,  
“And don’t worry. I can look after meself. Alright?”  
Reg smiled at his partner.

 

“I thought Detective Knight would be a little more proactive on this case,” Craig remarked.  
“He’s taken copies of the case notes,” Inspector Parkes replied absently, looking through a set of reports.  
“Copies?” Craig questioned.  
“This guy has some strange allergy to sunlight. He can only come into work when the sun goes down.”  
“Oh!” Craig replied weakly.  
“He’s OK. A bit pale but then again, so would you be if you never saw the sun. He’s very fit and upto the job though, never seen anyone move so fast! We were checking out the last sighting of the blood collector last night when a couple of scrotes decided to do over a pair of old ladies for their bingo money. He was there knocking heads together so fast he was a blur. You should get on with him very well, I think he said he’s one of your lot.”  
“What gay?”  
“No, Welsh. Or descended from the Welsh. Give you something to talk about anyway when he comes in,” Parkes smiled as he departed to his own office.  
Several minutes after sundown there was a knock on Gilmore’s door.  
“Enter.”  
A tall, blonde man strode into Craig’s office dressed in civilian clothing.  
“Sergeant Gilmore?” the man asked offering his hand.  
Craig stood up and took the proffered hand.  
“Detective Knight?” he asked, knowing without being told this was the Canadian copper. What everyone had failed to mention though was the force of his personality. He was magnetic and, as Luke had already told him, very attractive.  
“Please, call me Nick.”  
“Craig. I understand from Inspector Parkes you have already examined the site of the attack, last night?”  
“That’s right. But I was hoping you could take me through things as well, as you actually saw the perp.”  
“Be glad to. Can you fill me in on your theories?”  
“Certainly. If this is the same man he collects blood from six or eight individuals then kills a further two. Then he turns up in another city miles away and repeats the pattern.”  
“How many do you think he has killed?”  
“Fourteen across the breadth of Canada from Vancouver, through Calgary, Regina, Winnipeg, Toronto, Montreal and Halifax. Then two more in Dublin and two in Paris.”  
“Sixteen?”  
Knight nodded.  
“When I heard about your Collector, his MO sounds so similar, I got on a plane and got here as quickly as I could.”  
“This one has attacked two people so far and taken a small amount of blood from each of them. Apart from taking the blood, he didn’t actually hurt them. He blindfolded them and both victims say he even sterilised the area before taking the blood.”  
“That is his pattern. He seems to be so careful with the first ones then seems to lose control with the last two.”  
“Any idea why he collects blood?”  
“None. All the victims are a range of blood groups and ethnic backgrounds, so he hasn’t got a taste for one particular type.”  
“Mentally ill?”  
“Certainly mentally unstable. You and your colleagues here are the nearest we have to a witness in all these murders.”  
“Well I’ll certainly do all I can to help your investigation.”  
“Thank you Craig. Dach chi'n Gymri?"   
Craig smiled as he replied,  
“I am Welsh but I don’t speak the language.”  
“We’ll stick to English then, “Knight replied smiling at him.  
“Were you born in Wales?”  
“No. My family came from South Wales through, several generations back.”  
“And you speak Welsh a lot better than I do!”  
Knight laughed depreciatingly and changed the subject back to the murders.   
“Do you mind if we take a look around the area where you arrested the Collector? If it is the same man he quite often sticks with the same area until he’s committed the murders.”

Knight was an amusing companion. He was entertaining, informative, bright and intelligent and Craig found, to his dismay, he was starting to mildly flirt with the man and what was even more worrying Knight appeared to be responding. Well this was definitely one part of the shift he wouldn’t be telling Luke about.   
The London air was crisp near the river, Craig’s breath fogging as the water vapour condensed in the night air. Suddenly Craig was aware they were not as alone as they thought, someone was following them very stealthily. Surreptitiously Craig communicated his suspicions to Knight. They walked ever slower allowing their shadow to catch up then rounded on him.  
“Vachon!” Knight said, obviously unhappy at seeing the younger man.  
Craig looked at Knight questioningly.  
“Javier Vachon, Craig Gilmore. Vachon is …known to me.”  
Vachon turned his bright brown eyes onto Knight.  
“I think what he is trying, very delicately, to say is that I’m an informant of his.”  
“An informant who is a long way from home!” Knight replied dryly.  
“Hey! I like to travel as well. Pleased to meet you Craig Gilmore,” Vachon said offering his hand and looking into his eyes.  
Craig automatically categorised the young man as Spanish/American, about five ten, very good looking and quite as much of a charmer as Knight.  
Craig took his hand and felt himself falling into the fathomless brown eyes in front of him.  
“What a wonderful soul!” Vachon breathed reverently still holding onto Craig’s hand.  
Craig was looking blankly down at Vachon totally mesmerised and unheeding of the conversation around him.  
“Yes, he is lovely. Now let him go,” Knight warned.  
“How can you even think of letting such a bright soul go.”  
Knight grasped his friend around this upper arms and said,  
“Use your senses, there’s another’s scent all over him.”  
Vachon delicately sniffed the air.  
“He was making love before he came out this evening. With another man.”  
“I think I recognise the scent too. Another police officer, from Sun Hill.”  
Vachon moved forward towards Craig despite Knight’s restraining hands on him.  
“See with your heart Craig Gilmore, look at me as your heart’s desire,” he whispered softly directly into Craig’s mind.  
Craig blinked and focussed.  
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, lowering his voice. “You’re on early shift tomorrow!”  
Vachon drew Craig into the mouth of a darkened alleyway.  
“I only wanted a kiss,” he whispered.  
“You silly sod!” Craig replied affectionately, brushing his hands down Vachon’s face and willingly lowering his head.  
Vachon kissed him with all the pent up passion in his five hundred year old heart. He wanted Craig as he had seldom wanted anyone. His nobility, compassion, morality, his very essence drew Vachon to him like a moth to a flame. He was helpless in resisting this siren’s song. Hungrily he took all that was offered, feeling the change come over him quickly, his teeth lengthening and his eyes changing. Knight tightened his hold on his younger friend. A kiss he could allow, anything further was out of the question.   
Vachon’s teeth nicked Craig’s lip. Silently he savoured the drops of blood which flowed into his mouth. He truly was an amazing mortal.  
Knight pulled him back sharply, at the same time telling Craig to forget the kiss, and to sit down and go to sleep. Craig obediently did as was told, sitting down and leaning back against the building. Knight turned Vachon around and shook him hard.  
“Stop this now! He is not to be harmed. Do you understand me?”  
“’Course I do Knight. Lighten up! What do you think I’m going to do with him?”  
“I know exactly what you want to do with him.”  
“You’re forgetting, I’m the king of sipping!”  
“Not even a sip Vachon. He is totally off limits.”  
“You don’t know what you’re missing. He’s ambrosia.”  
“What?”  
Suddenly Knight changed into a fiend from Hell. His eyes flared golden red as his lengthened teeth tore savagely into Vachon’s neck. Faintly Knight could taste the few drops of blood Vachon had taken from Craig. They fizzed against his tongue like the finest champagne, the goodness and light of his soul falling across Knight like cool rain in a desert. Faintly he moaned knowing what he could never have again. Quietly Knight licked at Vachon’s neck until the puncture wounds closed and faded. He looked down into the brown eyes and shook his head.  
“We’d ruin him. All that beautiful light turned to dark the instant he came across. Better to let him die a natural death than to do that.”   
He lowered his head and gently kissed Vachon’s mouth.  
“Why do you always have to be so damned logical?”  
Knight laughed quietly.   
“It’s a talent I have,” he replied.  
“He knows who the Collector is,” Vachon reminded him.  
Knight considered the statement. This was quite a dilemma. He or rather they needed to find this Collector before he blew the cover of the whole vampire community. None of the British community knew who he was, neither had they been able to get close enough to stop him. Only a very few police officers had actually seen the Collector. Between them Knight knew he and Vachon could influence Craig enough to get him to remember the night he caught the man, but in order to see him Vachon would have to take some blood and see his memories within the flowing living stream. Knight had been keeping to his diet of animal blood and anyway he knew he didn’t have the self control for ‘sipping’, which was taking just a little blood from a mortal, without killing them. A sudden thought struck him.  
“How long have you been in town?”  
“Coupla days,” Vachon replied, prevaricating.  
“You? You have, haven’t you?”  
Vachon tried to look innocent but failed, totally.  
“I only took a little!”  
“From a good dozen officers!”  
“I was hungry!”  
“You should have asked the community for help, instead of just helping yourself,” Knight said, annoyed.  
“Then you would have found out I was in town and I wanted to surprise you,” Vachon replied, cocky as ever. He knew now Knight would agree to his sipping from Craig.  
“You think you can do it?”  
“You’ll be there as well.”  
Knight considered the younger vampire in front of him.  
“Is your place nearby?”  
“Not too far.”  
Knight nodded. Between them they each took one of Craig’s arms then together they took off into the night sky. Craig’s hat tumbled from his head and rolled to the edge of the alleyway, coming to rest on it’s flattened top.  
Below their rapidly retreating figures a tall man stepped out of the shadows, his extremely short hair catching the sodium light as he tracked the unusual trio into the night with pale, merciless, blue eyes.  
“Nicholai,” he breathed, then stiffened and melted away again as pounding feet heralded the arrival of two more spies.  
“There! I told you there was something funny about him!” Reg’s voice rang out over the alleyway.  
“Reg, just shut up and keep looking where they are going!” Luke ordered harshly, desperately worried about the safety of his partner.   
Reg was busy unzipping the holdall at his feet.  
“It’s alright I came prepared,” he stated, extracting a wooden stake and a mallet.  
“What good is that going to do unless we can find them first?” Luke asked.  
“Erm, good point that. Yeah, a very good point,” Reg conceded.  
Luke closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he got lumbered with such a dimwit.

 

Dropping down through a broken skylight, the two vampires came gently to rest on the top floor of an abandoned warehouse.  
“Through there,” Vachon nodded towards a darkened doorway which led onto a narrow staircase. “Second door on the right.”  
Knight turned the door knob but the door didn’t open.   
“Hold him,” Vachon said, allowing Knight to take all of Craig’s weight as he dug in his jeans pocket for a key. Neither vampire required light, their hunter’s vision was perfect for these conditions. He unlocked the room and pushed open the door. At the far end a large double bed occupied one corner of the room. Dotted around the floor were large, thick white candles. Knight picked Gilmore up and carried him to the bed, putting him down very gently, whilst Vachon lit the candles with a lighter from his pocket.  
Vachon kicked off his shoes and padded over to the bed, pulling off his shirt and jacket as he did so.  
“Come on, give me a hand,” he ordered, undoing Craig’s vest.  
“Er, what are you doing?” Knight asked, laying a restraining arm on Vachon.  
“Well do you really want to try and explain bloodstains on his nice white uniform shirt?”  
Knight saw the wisdom of his enquiry immediately and set to, helping to undress Gilmore.   
Just as Vachon was starting on Craig’s trouser fastenings Knight, once again, stopped him.  
“Don’t you think you think you’ve gone far enough?”  
“Don’t blame me if he ends up with blue balls then!”  
Reluctantly Knight allowed him to loosen his trouser fastenings remembering just how erotic mortals found the process of sipping.  
Vachon made himself comfortable at Craig’s side, his leg between Craig’s legs and the rest of his body draped across Craig’s body. He wriggled slightly to get even more relaxed. Then he noticed Knight sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed. Annoyed he turned to face the other vampire.  
“Is this how you behave at home?” he snapped.  
“What?”  
“Shoes, Knight! Get the shoes off the duvet!”  
Knight rolled his eyes.  
“Why are you so worried? You’ll be moving on in a few days?”  
“No need to ruin the décor, man!”  
Knight cast his eyes around the bare, cobwebbed warehouse.  
“Very chic!” he muttered, toeing off his shoes, then settling back against the end of the bed. Vachon glared at him.  
“Get on with it!”  
“This is my scene, Knight.”  
“Now Vachon, or I’ll do more than sip from you.”  
Vachon’s eye lids lowered, his gaze dipping into sultry.  
“Promises, promises,” he whispered.  
Knight laughed.  
“Later,” he promised. “After we have the Collector.”  
Vachon grinned.  
“I might hold you to that.”  
“Oh you will! You most definitely will,” Knight breathed. They exchanged a smile then Vachon turned back to the mortal.  
Unable to help himself Vachon ran his hand down the lightly furred chest under his own cool skin. A faint smile flickered across Craig’s face in response. Vachon turned Craig’s face towards himself and licked his neck, intending to carefully bite down but even in his unconscious state Gilmore seemed to sense it wasn’t his partner on the bed with him and began to struggle. After the fourth fruitless attempt Vachon sighed and asked Knight,  
“Any ideas?”  
“Make love to him.”  
Vahon’s head jerked around to fast he nearly got whiplash injuries. Knight smiled slightly.  
“Let him think he’s with his lover. He should let you then.”  
Vachon concentrated, picking up the mortal heartbeat and blending his suggestion in time with the cadence.  
“Let your heat see. See me with your heart. Make love to your love….” Vachon chanted softly over and over again. Gradually he felt Craig relax against him until his eyes flickered open and he said dreamily,  
“Luke?”  
Vachon leaned down to kiss him and was surprised to be caught up in hard hug and rolled over, his mouth plundered with deep kisses. Not one to waste an opportunity Vachon went with the flow, allowing Craig free access to his body, letting the man touch him where ever wanted. Before long Vachon seized his chance and bit down into his neck making Craig groan with erotic pleasure. Vachon drew mouthfuls of blood into himself quickly, deriving as much gratification from the act as the mortal. He sifted through the memories and emotions coming to him in the blood; his love for his partner, irritation with work, then he caught a glimpse of the face he needed to see. At last, the man they needed to catch. A very good looking man, early thirties, apparently bright and intelligent but devious as well. Even through the blood link Vachon received no impression he was anything other than mortal. Then a faint tang of something less than wholesome filled his mouth. Just to be sure, Vachon took another gulp. There it was again, at the very edge of even his senses. He’d tasted this sickness before in other people. Immediately Vachon drew back.  
“Sleep!” he commanded, sending Craig into a very deep sleep. Vachon sat staring down at Craig, a hand across his mouth, his long dead heart constricting with sorrow.  
“Vachon?”  
He looked up at Knight, his eyes glistening.  
“Did you see him? Is he one of ours?”  
“He’s mortal but I know who to look for,” Vachon replied dully.  
Knight regarded his companion before asking,  
“What’s the matter?”  
“Knight, he’s going to get sick. I can taste the very early stages in his blood.”  
“Sick?”  
“It’s HIV.”  
“Are you sure?”  
Vachon held out his own wrist, letting Knight taste for himself. After a few gulps Knight’s golden eyes took on a sorrowful cast, an expression which remained as they returned to blue.  
“Knight?”  
“No Vachon. Bringing him across is not an option. Let him take his own path.”  
“But he can do so much good…”  
“How very touching!”   
The sarcastic tones cut across the warehouse like a hot knife through butter.  
“LaCroix!” Knight ground out.  
“Nicholai, it is a very long time since we were last in London together. Let me see, nineteen forty three wasn’t it?”  
Knight didn’t reply.  
“Vachon is going to lose his servant, is he? Never mind. You should try binding the next one. They keep rather better that way. Nicholai, the leader of the British Community is holding a little soiree tomorrow evening. Do try and get the evening off, my dear. It would be such bad form to refuse her invitation. Bring young Javier with you as well. He needs to broaden his horizons.”  
Having delivered his instructions LaCroix crossed the warehouse, kissed his son on the forehead then left just as quietly and quickly as he’d arrived.  
Vachon was looking down at Craig, lost in thought.  
“Knight! Did he…,” Vachon asked, dumbfounded.  
“He can’t have!”  
“I think he did. Binding!”  
“LaCroix! Suggest something to help a mortal?”  
“He did!”  
“I can’t believe this!”  
“Neither can I. Maybe he’s getting soft in his old age.”  
Knight turned his blue gaze onto Vachon.  
“You want to tell him that?”  
Vachon gave a sickly smile and shook his head. Vachon wondered just how long it would take him to die if he tried to tell LaCroix he thought he was getting soft. Or perhaps he would be merciful and just stake him out in the path of the rising sun. Whichever method chosen it was sure to involve a lot of pain!  
Two sets of stealthy footsteps approaching the room sent the two vampires to flatten themselves each side of the doorway. Cautiously Luke open the door, very surprised to feel himself pulled bodily into the room. More frightening than the bloody eyed and fanged demon in front of him though was the sight of Craig, still and silent, lying on the bed with a streak of blood running over his breast.  
“Craig!” Luke wailed, flailing to get away from Vachon and run to his partner.   
Vachon easily held him and sniffed the air around him. This mortal was the source of the scent which lay all over Craig.  
“He’s yours?” Vachon ground out, his fangs making it sound like a threat rather than a question.  
Luke nodded.  
“Don’t hurt him, please. You can have my blood. Please don’t hurt him,” Luke begged, his brown eyes wide and frightened. This was way outside anything he had been taught at Hendon.  
“Go to sleep!” the fanged one growled.  
“Why?” Luke asked.  
“Sleep!” the fanged man repeated.  
“No,” Luke replied. “What are you going to do to Craig?”  
To his surprise the man with the fangs dropped him and turned to Detective Knight at his side, his face rapidly going back to human.  
“Why? Why do I always get the resistors? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?”  
Knight shrugged and said facetiously, having subdued Reg without any trouble whatsoever,  
“Luck of the draw.”  
“What are you going to do with us?” Luke asked in a small voice. He was still leaning protectively towards Craig.  
“Nothing,” Knight replied. “We only want to find the Collector. All we ask is that you don’t give us away.”  
Luke searched his eyes then nodded.  
“Do you know he’s sick?” Vachon asked.  
“What? No! How sick?”  
“HIV, very early stages,” Vachon replied.  
“But he can’t be. His test came back negative!” Luke ran across the warehouse to gaze down at Craig, unaware of the tears running down his face. He hardly noticed when Vachon gently turned his wrist and took some blood. He turned to Knight and nodded. Both of them were infected with the virus.  
Luke turned his tear stained face to Vachon.  
“Can you do anything to help him? Make him like you. He won’t get ill then, will he?” Luke asked.  
“No, he won’t get ill, but he won’t want to be with you either,”  
“It doesn’t matter, as long as he’s well,” Luke sobbed.  
Knight put his hand on Luke’s shoulder and said,  
“There is something we can do but we won’t make him like us.”  
“Do it! Please, do it!”  
“Not now. The day after tomorrow. Leave your address for me and we’ll call round. Tonight Craig is going to help us catch a killer.”  
“You promise?” Luke asked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.  
“I promise,” Knight agreed. “Now help us get him dressed again.”  
“What about Reg?”  
“We’ll send Reg home, in one piece,” Vachon said, eyeing the mortal still standing at the door, complete with mallet and stake. “Does he always go out on duty armed like that?” he asked Luke, curiously.  
Dressing Craig back in his shirt and jumper was easier with three people, especially one who handled Craig’s body with confidence and love. Even though Craig was deeply asleep Luke kept talking to Craig and telling him exactly what they were doing until they had him dressed and with his body armour in place.  
“Where’s his hat?” Luke asked.  
“Erm, fell off I think,” Vachon told him.  
“He’ll go ape-shit!” Luke replied.  
“We can take him back to the alley. We can take you both back to the alley.”  
“He’s going to think something is well wrong if he sees me there,” Luke reminded them.  
“No he won’t,” Knight corrected him.   
Luke frowned.  
“We made him think you were there to get him to talk to us,” Vachon supplied helpfully.  
“And I’m supposed to trust you two?”  
“All we want is the man who is committing the murders,” Knight assured him.  
“And is he?”  
“Is he what?” Knight asked, confused.  
“A man or one of you?”  
“He’s a man.”  
“But you thought he was one of you, didn’t you? That’s why you’re over here,” Luke asked. “Are you really a police officer?”  
“Yes, I am really a police officer,” Knight said.  
“And I am really his snout,” Vachon said, propping his chin on Knight’s shoulder and looking at him sideways. Knight smiled down then moved away.  
“Does Reg live nearby?”  
Luke gave them his address.  
“Drop him about half a mile from home and let him walk, then come back here,” Knight instructed.  
It didn’t take long for Vachon to complete his task. He knew how Knight was going to set the scene without being told. As soon as he returned Knight picked Craig up as if he weighed nothing and made his way out to the room with the broken skylight. He placed Craig upright, standing behind him he took a firm hold around his chest and then flew up. Luke gasped.  
“That must be amazing!” he said, then jumped, startled as Vachon’s arms crept around his chest from behind.  
“It is!” he replied just before he too took off.  
Luke clutch convulsively at the arms around his chest, his heart hammering against his ribs.  
“Relax!” Vachon shouted above the noise of their passing through the air. “I won’t drop you.”  
Luke looked down at the darkened buildings and yellow haloes of streetlights below him picking out the roads and paths he was used to walking. The flight was very short, only a couple of minutes, but Vachon did extend it a little. Daringly he flew over Sun Hill nick, then darted back to where they were supposed to be.  
“Don’t say a word to Knight,” he whispered as they touched down. Luke grinned and shook his head.  
“What kept you?” Knight asked, sounding annoyed.  
“Nothing. Not as fast as you,” Vachon lied.  
Knight glared at him but decided not to argue. By this point he had found Craig’s hat and placed it on his head. Craig was standing apparently staring at a wall, out of the way of the streetlight.   
“You know what to do. Call me when you’ve found him,” he said to Vachon.  
Vachon nodded once then took off again, Luke watching him fly with envious eyes.  
“It’s not all fun and games,” Knight told him.  
“It looks fantastic. You live forever, you can fly…..”  
“We can never go out in the sunshine, we don’t go to a place of rest when we die, we can’t love like you do, we can never have children once we’re like this. If we had children before we come across we can watch our families perish in front of us, we can even see our grandchildren and great grand children grow old and die in front of us. We always outlive our mortal friends. Shall I go on?” The longing and loneliness in Knight’s voice was so obvious Luke felt ashamed of his reaction and shook his head. He could go out in the sun for walks with Craig and he could make love with his soul mate whenever they wanted and hopefully they would grow old together. That outweighed anything else.  
Knight told Luke to stand in front of Craig and kiss him. As he did so he released his control over Craig.   
Craig couldn’t remember the last time Luke kissed him with such passion and ardour. A little discomforted he pulled back.  
“Luke, are you alright?”  
He nodded and kissed him again, this time gentle and sweet.  
“Are you sure you’re OK?” Craig whispered.  
“I’m fine. You’d better go before Knight comes back.”  
Craig held Luke’s face between his hands, looking into his shadowed eyes. Luke wrapped his arms around Craig’s neck and pulled him into a hard hug.  
“I love you,” he whispered into Craig’s ear.  
Craig was now seriously worried. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times Luke had deliberately sought him out when one or both were on duty. Before he had a chance to get to the bottom of Luke’s odd behaviour he heard Knight shouting for him.  
“We’ll talk later,” Craig promised.  
“No need. I just wanted a kiss. I’ve missed you,” Luke told him. He stroked his hand down Craig’s face then slipped away.  
Exasperated Craig looked after his retreating mate before turning him mind to duty once again and joining Knight.  
Knight was just replacing his mobile ‘phone in his pocket.  
“Vachon, he says he’s got a lead on the Collector. A housing complex behind St Gemma’s hospital.”  
“Right, this way. We can cut across the playing fields. ETA about ten minutes.”  
Knight nodded and followed Craig’s lead, quietly impressed with the man.   
Slightly less than ten minutes later they were looking up at a window on the second floor.  
“He’s in there,” Vachon said softly. “Looked like he’d just come in from work.”  
Automatically Craig checked the time. Twenty past ten, the man could be a shift worker. Then his eyes strayed to the brightly lit hospital. Or he could work in the hospital. As they all looked the light went out and less than a minute later a white man in his early thirties emerged from the security door.  
Without thinking Craig stood up and went towards the man.  
“Good evening,” he said cheerily.  
“Hello,” the man replied, his voice sounding a little nervous.  
“Don’t know if you remember me, I’m Sergeant Gilmore……”  
He didn’t get any further in his explanations before the man whipped out a long thin bladed knife and lunged at Craig with it. His vest took the brunt of the attack but his instinctive reaction of holding his arms up to protect his face cost him a cut forearm. The struggle was over nearly before it began as Knight and Vachon waded in to subdue the man. What had seemed to be a perfectly approachable man had transformed into a spitting, violent struggling madman. Using his uninjured arm Craig spoke into his radio and asked for immediate transportation for a violent prisoner, then handcuffed the man as he lay face down on the ground.  
“Are you alright?” Knight asked, smelling the blood rather than seeing it.  
“Fine, just a small cut. Nothing to worry about,” he replied.  
Their prisoner seemed to be veering between furious demands to be released and begging to be released. Craig knelt down to talk to him.  
“What’s your name? Your real name I mean.”  
“Need it! Need much more. Won’t work without more.”  
“What won’t work?” Craig asked curiously.  
“Won’t work unless I get some more, you know. Give me some of yours!”  
With a sinking feeling Craig asked,  
“What is it you want?”  
“I want more blood. I’ll only take a little this time. Just a little.”  
“What are you going to do with it?”  
The man laughed, a strangely high pitched sound, which was at odds coming from such a well muscled handsome man. Craig knew the man would have had little problem getting anyone to trust him. His face looked so open and honest as well as being good looking.  
“Look, there’s blood here,” Craig said, lifting his injured hand and letting drops of the red fluid drip from his finger tips. “What are you going to do with it?”  
The man groaned.  
“Don’t waste it. I need it. Give it to me,” he pleaded as he tried to move, snake like, on his belly towards the blood. Knight easily held him back, whilst averting his head from the open temptation in front of him. Vachon was faring better having fed early in the evening.  
“What are you going to do with the blood,” Vachon asked softly.  
“Drink it! I want to live! I want to live forever. I need to suck the life into me. Please let me, please!” he begged, trying to wriggle out of Knight’s grasp.  
Craig frowned at the deluded man on the floor. Instinctively he knew even if the man was pronounced fit enough to stand trial he would be spending the rest of his life in a high security hospital. As a final touch the flashing blue light from the area car cast an air of unreality over the scene. Never in his wildest dreams did Craig ever think he would be tracking down murderous wanna be vampires!

 

“Thank you very much for all your help Inspector,” Knight said, smiling and shaking the other man’s hand.  
“Don’t thank me, it’s all down to you and Craig. Just glad you’ve got that man off the streets. It’ll take a couple of days to arrange the transportation authority so until then I suggest you take the time off, do some sight seeing,” Inspector Parkes suggested.  
“Thank you. I think I might do just that,” Knight replied, smiling.  
He hadn’t gone more than half a dozen steps from the police station when Vahon caught up with him.  
“All set?”  
“All set.”  
They rounded a corner into a darkened street and both took off, two dark shadows in the night sky.

Cautiously Luke opened the door, then smiled when he saw his visitors.  
Knight smiled down at the eager young man.  
“Hi Nick, Javier!” then lowering his voice he said, “ We’ve eaten and I’ve made it look like four of us had a meal, and I’ve opened a bottle of red wine.”  
He ushered his guests into the house, which brought Craig out of the kitchen.  
“Hello Nick, is every thing sorted out?”  
“It’ll take a couple of days but there shouldn’t be any problems,” Knight replied affably, “How’s the arm feeling?”  
“Fine. It’s only a couple of stitches,” Craig replied.  
“Good,” Knight said then he exerted his formidable influence over Craig, neatly catching him and guiding him back to sit him down on a chair around the kitchen table. The kitchen stunk of roasted garlic which made both vampires curl their lips in disgust.  
“What now?” Luke asked.  
“Pour two glasses of wine,” Vachon instructed, whilst taking off his jacket and rolling back the sleeve of his shirt.  
Luke rushed to comply with the request  
Coolly Knight bit into his own wrist letting three drops of blood drip into each glass. Vachon then did the same, allowing just three drops of his own blood to mix with the wine and blood already in the glasses.  
“We’re mixing it so you won’t feel bound to just one of us,” Knight explained picking up one of the glasses and placing it against Craig’s lips.  
“Craig, drink your wine,” he instructed.  
Obediently Craig drank the mix until the glass was empty.  
“Now you,” Vachon said, pointing to the remaining glass.  
“Me?”  
“Do you want to leave him on his own, if you get sick and die?” Vachon asked, in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. He still hadn’t told Luke he’d detected the virus in his bloodstream too.  
Hesitantly Luke picked up the glass, looking into the murky depths, then he quickly gulped back the contents before he had a chance to change his mind.  
“I don’t feel any different,” he said a few minutes later.  
“You won’t feel any difference at all. You’ll just be able to recognise our kind more easily,” Knight told him kindly. “But you’ll stay in good health for a long time…..” he was interrupted by someone hammering on the door. Luke looked at the two immortals in front of him then got up slowly to answer the door.  
“Reg, Des,” he said weakly. “Come in.”  
“We’re not stopping,” Des said immediately.  
“No, we were just passing and I thought I’d drop this off for you,” Reg said, offering a cookbook to Luke.  
“Come in and join us,” Craig invited from the kitchen doorway.  
Des sauntered down the hall like he owned the place but stopped short when he saw Vachon and Knight sitting at their ease around the kitchen table.  
“Didn’t realise you had company,” he said.  
“Hi Des,” Knight said, smiling. Vachon nodded in his direction but said nothing.  
“We’ve just been enjoying Reg’s recipe,” Knight said.  
Des took a deeper breath of the atmosphere in the kitchen.  
“What? The garlic and pea one?”  
“Wonderful!” Vachon said reverently. “Absolutely delicious.”  
Des turned and grinned at Reg before asking,  
“You’ve all had some of it?”  
A chorus of ‘Yes,’ greeted his question.  
“Followed by a pretty garlicky beef casserole as well, so sorry about the smell,” Craig said.  
“No problem Sarge. We like garlic as well. Anyway, we’ll get off. Just dropped the book in for Luke,” Des said, taking a pretty confused looking Reg by the arm and steering him towards the door.  
Luke saw them out but only Knight and Vachon heard the quiet exchange as they walked down the path.  
“Reggie babe, I love ya, but you’re an idiot sometimes. Vampires!”  
“Maybe Canadian ones can eat garlic,” Reg said. “I mean…..”  
The rest of his sentence was cut off by Des’ raucous laughter.

 

Six days later Luke was struggling to change the plaster on his shoulder. It was difficult trying to stick a new one on there using a mirror, he kept moving in the wrong direction. Finally he got the plaster in place over the bite mark and patted the edges down. Craig had been appalled when he realised he’d nipped Luke hard enough to draw blood when they were making love. Luke hadn’t minded at all, in fact, he’d hardly noticed as Luke’s love life with Craig was getting better and better. Silently Luke closed his eyes in order to better replay the memory of last night in his mind. That had been the best yet. They seemed to be so much more in tune with each other, each seemingly able to read the other’s mind as to what touches and caresses they wanted and when. He sighed in contentment and opened his eyes. The reflection in the mirror regarded him with a look of dreamy contentment in its golden eyes. He shook his head and looked again, his vision blurring for a second. When he refocused it was to see his normal dark eyes staring back at him. Must have been a trick of the light, he told himself, dismissing the momentary aberration and turning to think about what they needed from the supermarket. More steak, definitely. They both seemed to be eating a lot of red meat just lately. Vaguely he wondered if Craig liked steak tartar. Mmmm, now there was a thought, strips of raw steak draped over Craig’s body just waiting for him to eat it off, piece by piece and then lick all the blood from his skin afterwards. Grinning he smacked his lips and headed downstairs whistling cheerfully and totally unaware of the golden sparkles dancing in his deep brown eyes.


End file.
